Morning
by bright-eyesxX
Summary: In the early hours of the morning, Miriallia reflects on the death of a loved one.


**A/N:** Hey everyone ) This is my first fanfiction, so please be gentle and don't flame me if it's too horrible. There is character death, so I've warned you. Enjoy.

_**Disclaimer**:_ _I do not own Gundam SEED or any of it's characters. The end. _

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I woke up thinking about him today. It was strange because that hasn't happened in a while. My eyes flew open, and for a moment while I was sitting rigidly upright, his eyes flashed in front of me. Now I couldn't get him out of my head. No matter how many deep breaths I took, no matter how many times I glanced over at my husband's sleeping form, his smile still lingered in my mind's eye. 

I couldn't afford to keep thinking of him like this. For heaven's sake, I was eighteen years old. How long ago was that now? Almost six years and here I am, faced with him as though he were here before me.

I bend over to stroke Sai's face; Examining his soft features. This is the man I married just last year. I took his last name, we're bonded together now. I can't keep thinking of someone else. Sometimes I wonder if Sai knows what I'm thinking about.

"M-Milly?" he murmured, stirring from the feeling of my hands on his cheek. I smiled gently down at him.

"Good morning sleepy-head"

He leaned over as if to look at the clock, but halfway decided that the trip was too taxing this early. "…What time is it?" he asks sleepily.

"About six. I was thinking of taking a walk…if you want to stay in bed that's fine." Secretly, I'm hoping he'll leave me to myself.

"Y-yeah," he yawns the words out, "sounds good…" He turned over to settle back into the warmth of the bed sheets.

Slowly, I rose from the bed, clad in sweat pants and a t-shirt. Sliding my feet into my plush slippers, I recognized for the first time that morning the steady pitter-patter of rain. Crossing over to the window, I shifted the curtain aside to reveal the shining wet street. I sighed heavily, realizing that my walk was not going to happen this morning. Slowly I made my way down the stairs leading to the kitchen to fix myself some tea. Then I changed my mind, deciding it was more of a coffee morning. I got the feeling I could use the extra kick.

As I waited for my coffee to brew, I climbed onto the couch and flipped through the channels on the television, but of course there was nothing of interest on at six in the morning. The coffee maker beeped signaling that it had finished. I relished the taste of the coffee in my mouth; it was a welcoming bit of heat in the cold that cane not just from the weather.

Making a quick decision, I stood in front of the wooden bookshelf, searching for something that I hadn't looked at in a while. Finding it, I reached slowly towards the thick volume, hesitating a second before my fingers grasped it. I pulled it down slowly from its perch, handling it as if it were a precious object. There, on the front, was a picture of the two of us. We looked incredibly happy, incredibly content in each other's company. Vaguely, I wondered if I had ever looked like that since...well since then. I clutched at the dog tags around my neck. They were his. Slowly I opened the first page of the photo album and was once again faced with the intensity of his purple eyes.

Running my fingers over the picture of his face, everything came flooding back. His eyes, the feel of his skin, his smile, the way his lips felt on mine…I closed the album with a snap. I wasn't ready for this. I couldn't possibly face all of these memories at this hour of the morning. Shaking slightly, I returned the keepsake to its shelf. Suddenly, the freedom of the outside air seemed all the more enticing. My coat caught slightly on its hook as I pulled it off, and I had trouble steadying my hand to hold the umbrella properly as I opened the front door with the least noise possible.

The rain fell slowly around me as I walked the familiar streets, my feet going where they pleased as my mind focused on other matters. Or rather, my mind tried it's hardest _not_ to focus on other matters. I stopped to look up, all too late realizing where I had gone out of sheer habit. The iron gates loomed menacingly over my head, black and sparkling with raindrops. As much as I would have loved to turn back, that was not a possibility now that I have reached this point. Slowly and deliberately I pushed open the gates and began my solemn march through the rows of tombstones. I hate this place. Death hung heavy in the air, and silent whispers of lives lost floated among the graves. Strangely enough however, when I am there on my morning walks, it is the only time I can think clearly.

Eventually, my steps slowed from a brisk walk to a heavy stride until they stopped altogether. I have reached the place where I should see his name, and sure enough as I gradually turn I am faced with the smooth surface of his headstone. Crouching low on my knees, disregarding the muddy condition of the ground, I stared for what seemed like an eternity. Again and again I read the name engraved in the cold stone, _Dearka Elsman._ I began to wonder how many others have done this before me. How many have come to the grave of a loved one still half expecting that person to show up at their side at any given moment? Tears began to cultivate at the corners of my eyes as I was assaulted with memories of our time together. It was short and fleeting, but it was perfect.

During the time in my life when I was lost, it was Dearka who found me again. Despite the many times I have tried to put this feeling into words less cliché, I have never succeeded in doing so. He was always so patient, so conscious of my pain. In his arms I felt love in its truest and purest form, and now I am sure I would never be capable of feeling that again. I have come to realize that even though I may try to deny this to myself, I am still in love with him. Every bit of him still captivates me in a way that Sai has never accomplished. Sometimes I wonder if I only married Sai because he was the only piece of normalcy I was able to cling to.

Tears streamed down my face in rivulets now, mixing with the icy rain. I remembered the day he was buried, I was still expecting him to be standing beside me, holding my hand and stroking it with his thumb, even though I could plainly see him inside the coffin. I remembered at the wake when I had kissed his cheek, after many had cleared out, how cold it was. That stiff, lifeless thing was not Dearka. He was full of mirth and life, and was always quick to smile. I can see him even now sitting beside me, glowing with happiness, and for an instant, things are normal again. But when I reach out to hold him, all I feel is air between my fingers and the rain splattering on my skin.


End file.
